Dragon Age: A Wolf for the People
by anicklesworth
Summary: The Breach has been sealed and the Inquisition is left to rebuild. For Solas, there is no rest until the People are free. He will travel the vast land of Thedas into new, uncharted territory to build his army. New threats await him and his companions, but he is willing to sacrifice everything, if it means the elves can finally be free...
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

The bustle of Hossberg was unsettling, and the constant sounds of the market district were giving Solas a headache. With the bright sun above beating its irregular autumn heat into the city, it made the smell of raw meat mix with the steel forges and that left a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach that was becoming increasingly hard to ignore.

"I said ten silver for the cowl."

A merchant still held out his hand, his impatient and suspicious gaze hooked on the elf as he waited for his money.

Solas quickly snapped his attention back to his transaction and dropped the agreed amount into the man's hand.

"Thank you," he said as he turned to leave. He heard the merchant grumble something derogatory under his breath, but paid no mind. His thoughts were elsewhere, his mind fixated on the past three months as he made his way through the crowds of people.

' _Best get some food in your stomach and a cold drink, my friend; before you pass out from the heat and pure exhaustion.'_

Solas nodded to himself and continued down the cobblestone street, avoiding the beggars and narrowly missing a small group of children playing in the middle of the crowds. He kept a hand clasped over his satchel, his eyes following the children until they had passed him. He knew the desperation of street orphans and hungry tummies, and he wasn't about to lose what little money he still had left after his long journey north.

It had not been an easy journey for the elf. Immediately after the defeat of Corypheus, Solas had needed to escape the Inquisition as quickly as possible. He had admitted to the Inquisitor that the Breach had partially been his fault, that his orb had fallen in the hands of Corypheus in an attempt to destroy him. She had understood. Evelyn Trevelyan was more than accommodating when it came to skeletons in the closet. He would have, however, needed to be cross examined and interviewed extensively by the Inquisition if there was any hope of him continuing with his former companions. As staying with the Inquisition was not in his long term plan, he decided it best to slip away as fast as possible, so as not to waste time.

He had ventured back to the Well of Sorrows. He had met with Mythal. She understood him, and what had happened. She was thankful to him for setting things right in the world.

But the world was not right, still; even after the mark in the sky had disappeared. The People were still not free. The elves still suffered. He saw the impoverished way his people lived; the squalor they were forced to wallow in within the Elven Alienages. At the same time, the 'free' ones lived in a culture riddled with ignorance, inaccuracy, and pride. The elves were split into two factions and both sides mistrusted the other just as equally. It pained Solas to see how much farther his people had fallen; and just as before, he could not sit by idly and wait for a change. He would have to make the change himself.

Even if he did have to cross the entirety of Thedas in order to do it.

So he had travelled alone. And after three months of grueling landscapes, he made it Hossberg. For the last two nights, he had slept atop the roof of a flat topped building, close to the market district, and spent the day replenishing his supplies. The trip to the Weathered Pass would be long, and with winter on the way, sandstorms would be a concern during his travels. There were small farming villages along the Wandering Hills; but most would be bunkered down for the Sand Season and not open to travelers, so he had to pack smart.

Ahead, Solas saw the hanging sign of a carved stein. He picked up the pace slightly, bare feet throbbing in pain against the stone. As he neared the tavern, he noticed just how parched his throat really was, and how loud his stomach was rumbling. His journey had been long and difficult, indeed. Now, it was time to resupply and have a good meal before he continued.

The tavern was open, and busy. Serving girls were running about to keep flagons full and patrons happy. The music was nearly drowned out by all the voices speaking at once; and on the left side of the room, a group of heavily armored guards were drinking excessively; keeping the barkeep distracted.

' _Table in the back corner…'_

Solas moved past the crowded tables, trying not to bump or brush anyone. The last thing he wanted was for a fight to break out in the tavern, especially with the drunken guards mere feet away from him. However, his staff was quite visible, and anyone who seemed annoyed by his presence or actions was quickly diffused once they saw the magical weapon.

The small table was big enough for maybe four people. It was in a nice, dark corner away from the crowds. Solas dropped himself onto the wooden bench on the far side and leaned his back against the wall, sighing. Even with the noise, the crowd, and the hard wood beneath him, he could feel himself begin to relax – if only a little bit at a time. He ordered wine and dinner from the barmaid and began to take inventory of his pack. Four personal sized water skins and a large skin for his horse to drink from, in addition to plenty of dried meats, nuts, root vegetables, a small block of cheese and a few pieces of fresher meat for his first few days of travel would have to be enough.

' _The Anders are a good people, my dear friend. Should you fall on desperation, they will offer aid.'_

"If we are even near a settlement when aid is required," he mumbled back.

' _Oh, so you doubt the knowledge and direction I have for you, then?'_

"No," he sighed, rubbing his eyes. "But, this is a long journey; a dangerous one. I know you are continuing to keep me in the dark, and I don't understand why? If we are to travel together-"

"Did you say something?"

Solas snapped out of his trance-like conversation and looked up. The serving girl had his wine and a plate of food in hand and was eyeing him suspiciously. He sighed again, and offered her a feeble smile.

"Sorry, just mumbling to myself."

She placed the plate and glass on the table and smiled back. "It's okay," she said, brushing a piece of fiery red hair out of her eyes, a small sheen of sweat on her forehead. "I prefer the quieter crazy ones than the loud, authoritative types." She nodded towards the table off in the opposite corner of the tavern.

Solas looked over her shoulder to where she motioned. The group of guards, he finally noticed, was getting louder. Numerous steins were strewn about the table as they laughed, argued, and challenged one another in their drunken stupors. Solas looked up at the young woman apologetically and shook his head.

"Even the smallest amount of authority can make a greedy fool out of the most strong willed of men."

"Yeah," she rolled her eyes. "And they always try to flex that 'strong will' on me."

"Oy! Barmaid! Another round for me and my boys!"

As if on cue, one of the drunken guards was waving at the redhead and nearly falling off his seat. The maid's shoulders slumped ever so slightly. She gave Solas a small 'help me' glance, but walked off to do her job.

' _Now, as I was about to say; if you want to help the People, you are going to have to trust me, Fen'Harel.'_

Solas frowned, refusing to answer, and turned to his meal. He felt that if he gave his 'guest' the silent treatment, there would be no need for her to continue to speak – if speaking is what you would call it. So he began to eat his food, drink his wine, and tried to quiet his mind…

' _You have a very long journey ahead, Fen'Harel. You must be strong and focused. The battle is going to be long, difficult and bloody.'_

Solas took a sip of wine and enjoyed the warming sensation it gave him. He had to agree with his guest. The coming months would be daunting; all of the playing pieces had to be in just the right spot. All moves made needed to be calculated ever so carefully. Now, with the help of his new companion, Solas felt he had a real opportunity to do some real good; inspire real change before his final sleep.

' _Ha! So I am your companion, now? No longer a parasite that your advanced mind couldn't suppress? My, how our circumstances continue to change…'_

Solas finished his meal in silence and pushed the plate aside. He wiped his mouth with the cloth provided and sat back, sipping his wine slowly and observing the crowds around him.

"Circumstances are forever changing, Mythal. Our world would be quite boring if they didn't. You offered me valuable information that I needed your spirit for. I did what I had to do. You understand that."

"Hey! Touch my ass again and you're going to be wearing this ale!"

Solas jerked his eyes over to the redhead who had brought his meal. She was over with the drunken guardsmen, who had decided that harassing her and laying hands on her was a fun new game to play. She tried to hit one on the head with the stein of ale in her hand, but they simply knocked it away from her. One guard, a brown haired rugged looking human with patchy scruff on his face, yanked on her arm and pulled her close to him.

"No one cares what we do here, girl. We are the city's guardsmen, and we can do what we want, when we want…" he trailed a hand to the collar of her shirt, fingers toying with the buttons near her chest. He put his mouth close to the girl's ear and whispered something. Even from a distance, Solas could see the disgust in her face.

"Someone needs to stop this…" Solas growled.

' _Look around you. The Hossberg Guard is feared, Solas, and corrupt. Unless someone wants the same fate, or worse, they'll stay out of it.'_

Solas narrowed his eyes and looked around the tavern. Indeed, no one was taking serious notice of what was happening mere feet away from them. He saw a few patrons and other serving girls glance nervously over to the guards and their victim; however, they would quickly turn away and find something else in the room to keep their attention.

Finally, Solas grinned. "Then it is fortunate we didn't plan on staying past dawn."

He gripped his staff and placed the new cowl over his head, pulling the mouth piece up over his nose, so only his eyes were exposed. He left a few pieces of coin on the table, hoisted his pack and water skins, and headed towards the table full of guards where the girl was still struggling to get away.

"Keep struggling, darling!" the brown scruff laughed. "The more you do, the better it feels for me!"

' _Be careful. Even under heavy drink, trained soldiers are still deadly. And with you being outnumbered…'_

"I know what I'm doing," Solas muttered.

' _I do hope so.'_

Solas stood a few steps away from the guard's table. His staff was gripped tight, making his knuckles turning white under his anger.

"The lady does not appreciate your advances."

The guards stopped grew quiet as they all turned to the elf. In fact, the entire tavern had fallen in a fast silence; all eyes on the masked man with the mage staff. Solas could feel the tension rise, but he brushed it aside, preparing his magical defenses.

"I'd advise you let her go." He spoke with authority. "Or we are going to have a problem."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Cold, hard eyes met Solas' own. The man had a weathered face, a thick, dark beard and a stern look that was meant as a warning to any who opposed him. He let go of the girl who was still struggling against him, and she quickly stood, stepping aside so she could re-button her blouse and straighten her hair. Her eyes met Solas and she nodded her thanks, but remained here she was.

The man stood as tall as he was wide, muscles bulging out from his uniform. His frame towered over Solas' own lean form; his elven build not even close to matching his opponent's. However, Solas was strong and defiant; displaying his staff and concentrating his gaze on the tank before him.

"A mage, Rickard," one of the other guards warned.

Rickard sneered and pulled his sword from its sheath. "Not the first time I've killed a mage, Edwin," a cold and murderous look crossed his eyes as he focused on the elven man. "And he won't be the last, either."

The tavern had become deathly quiet, everyone's attention suddenly drawn to the duel that was about to unfold. Solas could feel the tension and nerves in the air. He had hoped the crowd would clear out; but it seems the Anders folk were always ready to watch a fight, so long as they didn't have to be a part of it. He made a mental note that he would have to keep focused and keep his magic in check.

' _Oh, that won't be a problem…'_

Solas felt the power of the Fade begin to bend to his will as brought up a protective barrier. He saw Rickard shift his weight and prepare to lunge at him. He had his tactic in mind. Solas was going to knock him senseless with a blast of energy and disarm the man, and send a surge of electricity through him to keep him down for hours.

Rickard lunged, his hulking body surprisingly quick. Solas raised his staff, preparing to block the first blow…

"Aaah! Oh Maker! Oh fuck!"

"Shit! Rickard! Rickard, holy shit!"

Solas inhaled deeply, feeling as though he had lost himself somewhere. His mind felt fuzzy, like it would after a too-short afternoon nap. He felt drained and a little confused and his ears were ringing, as if he had been struck in the head, hard. Time seemed to slow down as he looked around and saw the tavern patrons shuffling out of the building, screaming. The guardsmen were panicked, most had their weapons bared, ready to strike.

"Don't you come near me! You stay right where you are, you abomination!"

Solas found the serving girl near the group of guards and noticed the fear on her face. Her eyes quickly diverted to the floor when Solas tried to catch her attention. Her face was pallid, and she was trembling, her eyes fixated on the ale soaked planks. He followed her gaze, and finally understood, to his horror, the reason for everyone's mass panic.

The soldier formerly known as Rickard lay on the floor – well, what was left of him. His arms and legs had been cut off, as well as his head. Two frozen limbs lay around the bloodied corpse, and hundreds of shattered ice fragments were strewn about.

It was then that Solas felt a hefty weight in his suddenly wet and sticky hands. His eyes travelled slowly down to his side, and his blood suddenly ran cold.

He held onto the ratty red hair of a large, burly soldier who, only moments ago was barreling towards the elf. In Solas' other hand, a short sword was held, the steel stained in red with dark blood dripping at his feet. The head in his hand was heavy and still warm, the severed neck rubbing against his leg, making a deep red stain on his pants. Solas stood there, blinking and trying to register what had just happened. The guards around him were fading; he felt lightheaded and slowly his vision was tunneling out…

He felt a hand grab his, his arm being yanked on and a frantic voice speaking in his ear. Nothing was getting through to Solas, however. Everything seemed to blur together, and he couldn't seem to come out of his trance. Another hand guided him to drop the head, while the other took the sword. He could hear the loud _thump!_ of the head, the clattering of the bloodied sword as it hit the ground, but nothing seemed to make his brain work so his body could move. Another hard yank on his arm, and he could see himself being led away from the guards, out of the tavern, and into the Hossberg night.

He thought he could hear the figure ahead of him yell something, but he couldn't quite catch it. His legs felt as if they were running without him telling them to, as if his body wasn't his own. It was a strange sensation; a slightly intoxicating one.

A cold rush of water and a hard slap to the face broke the sensation and brought Solas back to reality.

"What the _hell_ was that?!"

It was the serving girl who had run off with him in tow. Her dark eyes were wild and her dress was slightly torn. She was catching her breath and trying to get an answer out of Solas while they hid in an alleyway off of the main road, the cover of nightfall helping them to stay hidden.

"Hey! I'm talking to you," she warned, holding a small dagger at his throat, "You wanna tell me just what the hell you were thinking? Where did you get the idea to just torture and maim some idiot guard? How were you able to concentrate your magic like that?"

Solas finally felt his head clearing. He looked into the woman's eyes and found his composure.

"I'm… not exactly sure what happened," he admitted.

She paused for a moment, her intense stare locked onto Solas as she probed his very soul. Then, she laughed and shook her head. "You placed a magical barrier around yourself and that guy. Then, you just… brutalized him. You froze each arm and leg one at a time. Before freezing his legs, you stole his short sword and cut both arms off. When you froze his legs in place…" she trailed off, her eyes losing focus as she recalled the last few short minutes. "You… You simply _kicked_ them. You kicked them, and they _shattered_."

Solas' eyes widened. "No," he whispered, bringing a hand to his mouth. "It's… not possible that I wouldn't remember…"

"As he lay on the ground, screaming," she continued, "you _smiled_ at him. You smiled with a look I've never seen before on _anyone's face_. You raised the sword high and brought it down hard enough to take his head off in one swing!"

Solas felt such a severe cold wash over him that he doubled over, feeling ill. He felt numb – almost as numb as he had felt when he first came out of his long slumber. There was no way he could have done something so heinous and calculated to an enemy. He's killed, oh yes; he has killed his fair share of soldiers – men and women alike – but, he's never tortured. He had a plan of attack to subdue the man in a non-lethal manner. How could he not remember? How could he have even used magic like that? The power, the focus it would have taken to make the freezing so precise…

Then, Solas noticed that his guest had fallen very quiet.

"Mythal…" he whispered.

"Look," the woman finally sighed. "The city guard is going to be searching the entire city for the next few days, and you look like you could use some rest. I can get you to my home and you can stay tonight. It would be wise to leave tomorrow at first light. I can't protect you," she explained, turning back to the elf to see him lost in his own thoughts. She frowned and grabbed him by the shoulders, giving him a fierce shake. "Hey! Snap out of it!"

Solas met her eyes, frowning. "I couldn't ask of something like that from you."

"Well, then it's a good thing you aren't asking. Come on."

' _Be wary…'_

Solas followed the girl, keeping his eyes focused all around him. Mythal's quiet, almost weak sounding warning made him tense up as he looked about the darkened alleyways for anything out of place.

"Can I know your name?" Solas asked. "You've helped me out of a difficult situation, but I don't know what I should call you."

The girl continued walking down the dark alleyway. She turned her head slightly back towards Solas.

"Adrianna."

"Adrianna, thank you for your help."

She laughed. "You were my only decent customer tonight. It's the least I can do to repay you for your bravery, no matter how drastic and crazy it was."

"I must admit, I'm surprise you are taking this so well," Solas said, concentrating on every turn she was taking him through. "Most women would have fled the moment they were free, before the real trouble began. Especially after I…"

He couldn't yet bring himself to admit what he had done, half expecting the voice to reassure him.

Silence.

Adrianna stopped in front of a small door of a slightly beaten down shack at the end of a long alley. Nothing surrounded them but stone walls and darkness. She wedged the door open enough and turned to Solas, motioning for him to enter.

"Guests are always first," she said.

He walked up to the door and was able to see up close the state of disrepair the tiny home was in. The wooden door was splintered; half off of its hinges, and the lock was broken. Solas gave the door a good shove to get it open all the way so he could enter the shack. He stepped aside so Adrianna could enter and light any lanterns or candles she might own. He noticed the smell of the house first. It was musty and old, as if no one had even occupied the place in years. When the dim light began to fill the room, the building seemed even lonelier than before. There was a small table with only one chair in the corner. A rickety shelf containing a few clothing items, dried meats and a few root vegetables were against the wall. Solas noticed the dented in pot and a few vials as well. Across the room was a bed, broken on one end so the mattress slumped, and ragged quilts were bunched in the corner.

"Please, settle in. I'm going to get some water and boil these outside on the fire. I'm starving," she collected the few potatoes and vegetables she had and backed away from Solas. She slipped out the door, not bothering to close it on her way out.

Solas had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't sure if it was still from the slaughter he had just performed, or if there was something more to it. He sighed, rubbing the back of his very sore neck and eyed the bed in the corner. Though the mattress was very worn, it looked comforting and cozy. He felt tired, hungry, thirsty and extremely sore. A few hours spent dreaming in the Fade could do wonders for his psyche and body…

' _Be wary…'_

"Oh, shut up, you deceitful bitch," he shot back, quieting the voice once again. Mythal was proving to be an invasive house guest on his mind, his emotions, and now his very body. Perhaps an old god absorbing the essence of another old god had not been the right plan of action.

He couldn't stop himself. The bed was calling to him, and his body was failing to ignore it. Solas eased himself gingerly into the bed, pulling the covers over top of him. Before his head had even hit the flat pillow, he had succumbed to the sleep he so desperately needed…

 _The Fade is a very confusing place. It is hard to get your bearings amongst the ever-changing landscapes, constantly merging colors and echoes of voices that can bring a chill to your very soul. The atmosphere is never too dense, nor is the light surrounding you too bright. Everything is always 'Just so'. It is a place of magic, for dreamers, for spirits, and for demons._

 _For Solas, the Fade had become his home. He was more familiar with the erratic landscape beneath his toes then the grass and dirt he walked on in the living world. He found comfort in the surrounding spirits and their 'fuzzy' existence, and befriended many of them. There is no second guessing a spirit's intentions or tones, once you knew how to read them and communicate. A spirit in the Fade had no need for petty games that humans, elves, dwarves and qunari played on each other. They simply… were._

 _The elf yawned and stretched, laying on a soft hill while molding his little piece of solitude. Decades of time spend in the realm of dreams and spirits had given him the wisdom most can only imagine. He had enough magic and knowledge to bend the Fade to his liking, to easily travel hundreds of miles of Fade distance within of matter of seconds to visit old temples across the country, or to see an old friend in the spirit world…_

"Oh? So I'm an old friend now, am I?"

 _Groaning, Solas opened one eye and looked up to see an old woman standing above him. She had an amused look on her face as she stared down at him, on eyebrow cocked and a hand on her hip._

"Please, just let me rest," _he mumbled, throwing an arm over his eyes._

 _She sighed and reached out an arm covered in beautifully crafted dragon scale mail and she pulled the man to his feet._

"You did not come to the Fade to rest, dear boy," _she turned his attention to the pale, rolling hills before them._ "You come for guidance, answers, and friends. Now, have your come for one of those specifically, or…?"

 _Solas frowned and yanked his arm out of Mythal's gauntlet, his eyes alight with an anger he had not felt in a very long time. He moved his hands to her shoulders and forced himself to stare into her amused eyes. It infuriated him even more that the woman seemed indifferent to his anger._

"Why did you do it? Why did you see it necessary to torture that guard?" _he demanded._ "What right do you have to suppress my mind and take such malicious actions against and arrogant fool – who would have learned his lesson with a small show of force-"

"Don't be naive," _she laughed, removing his now shaking hands from her shoulders._ "Do you really believe a city guardsmen would have just let you be? After humiliating him in front of his fellow officers? After doing it in a public place, full of spectators?" _Mythal's face grew more serious, her eyes showing their age._ "The entire guard would have turned over every stone, killed any mage in the city just to find you. It's one thing for a mage to be outside of the Circles now, but it is quite another to interfere in a quarrel – especially with city authority."

 _Solas growled._ "So you have me kill him, instead?"

"This way, they fear you. His companions would not hunt you without proper Templar assistance, and that takes time. They were drunk and stupid, but not completely ignorant to powerful magic. In this, I did you a favor."

 _The elf could feel his face grow hot, his anger was not subsiding. He raised an eyebrow._ "A favor?"

 _Mythal nodded._ "I bought you time to come here. I knew you had more questions. I can give you the answers you are so desperately looking for, before you travel blindly to the north." _She turned back to the hills before them and began walking._

 _Solas followed, feeling betrayed, yet after Mythal had explained her actions, he understood. He chastised himself for not being more careful, for not fully thinking things through before he had intervened at the tavern. He wondered if his time with the Inquisition and following the command of another had made his own mind weaker when it came to combat decisions. He was, after all, trying to keep a low profile, and picking a fight was not the best way to do that. At least now he would have the time Mythal had helped gain him to rest, regroup, and leave Hossberg as quickly as possible. If he was to help his People, he would need to be stronger…_

"My friend, you seem troubled."

 _Solas looked over to the embodiment of his old friend. He finally relaxed his shoulders and rubbed his head. He was tired. Even after his long slumber, he felt the enormous amount of stress weighing on his shoulders._

"I just need some rest," _he finally said, running a hand over his hairless head._

 _Mythal took his hand and led him down the hills of his constructed Fade. She looked about the ruined temples, the overgrown foliage and forest bursting through the stone's very foundation. Small houses and merchant carts were falling apart, slowly becoming one again with the forest after millennia of abandonment. There were the faintest wisps of souls here, floating about in their purgatory or the past, never letting go of what was once their reality._

"You miss your village," _Mythal said as they found the old well and sat upon the ledge._

 _Solas nodded. It had been so long since he had been there in the living world; but the sounds of the villagers, the smells of cooking meats and the sight of his majestic temple was still fresh in his memory. An old anger still burned deep within him when he thought of the old gods and their needless destruction. He thought of the innocent village – his innocent village – and al the lives that wasted; casualties of greed for more power._

"This is why you must continue," _Mythal held Solas close, feeling his torment and anger._ "We have a monumental task ahead, my friend. It all starts north of the Donnarks."

"Further north than that?" _he asked, pulling away so he could look Mythal in the eye._ "Surely, there is little to amuse ourselves with there. Scores of armies and scouts and hunters have come back empty handed over the ages, if they came back at all."

"It is true," _Mythal agreed._ "The north is a dangerous and wild place, and it is that way for a reason. There are people in the north. They are people familiar with your past, and will help us with our future."

"Elves? North of the Donnarks?"

"Elves who have escaped the plights of the south," _she explained._ "While they still age, they hold very close the traditions of the past, while incorporating new ways to keep their identity safe while they wait for the Dread Wolf to return to them. They are beast tamers, fierce warriors, honorable spies… and the keepers of dragons."

 _Solas' eyes grew wide. He wanted to laugh, to discredit Mythal's ramblings. However, the intensity in her voice – he couldn't deny that what she was saying was true._

 _But dragons?_

 _Solas could suddenly hear the soft murmurings from the real world in his ears. His body was as rested as it was going to get. He knew the morning would come soon, and he needed to make as much use of the daylight as he could._

 _Mythal nodded, aware of the time and what he was thinking. She stood._

"Before you leave, there is still the matter of the girl…" _she said._ "There is more to her than a simple bar maid. Keep your wits about you, Dread Wolf, at all times," _She leaned into his ear as her image began to fade. She whispered hoarsely,_ "And keep your enemies close. Use them to your advantage. They may not be enemies for long…"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Solas awoke to the scratching sound of quill on parchment. He cautiously opened one eye and peered over to Adrianna, who was writing down something on the small piece of paper.

He knew Mythal had been right about Adrianna; there was definitely something about her she wasn't telling him. Generally, when someone goes on a crazy maiming binge, women don't stick around to offer their home. He would have to tread carefully. First, he would have to find out who she really was, hopefully by not using excessive force. If she had taken him in and kept him alive while he slept, then surely she had to be a spy or and information dealer – an assassin would have killed him long ago.

So, he waited until her quill was done. Adrianna then rolled the parchment tight and wrapped a small piece of twine around it, securing a knot. As she rose from her chair, Solas decided it would be a good time to 'wake up'.

Solas sat up and yawned, stretching his arms out, feigning wariness to Adrianna. He slowly swung his feet over the lop-sided mattress and stood.

Adrianna looked over, startled, and her hand slipped the note into her apron pocket. She smiled at Solas causally, as if she had been waiting for him to wake up.

"You slept well, you hardly moved," she said with a smile. She nodded towards the open window. "The sun is going to rise in a short while. I'm sure you're famished. You should eat before you start on your way." She motioned to the door and walked outside. Solas followed cautiously, careful not to leave himself open to any possible attack.

She had a fire going in front of the house, the flames dying in the dim morning light; but the charcoals were still red-hot. There were potatoes in the pot, still steaming and dried meat on a plate next to the fire. Adrianna motioned for Solas to sit on the rickety chairs close to the fire, and he obliged, the wood creaking slightly under his weight.

Adrianna passed him the plate of meat and added the potatoes. Then, she sat and waited for him to take a bite.

Solas couldn't decide if he was hungry enough to dare yet.

"Your hospitality has been overwhelming and… unexpected," he said, stalling.

She smiled. "As I said before, I am in your debt for helping me. I don't have money or anything of value. A relatively decent meal is all I can really offer."

"And you?" Solas motioned to her empty lap.

"I ate while you slept," she laughed. "I couldn't wait while you snored in my bed. It's dried ram meat. I smoked it myself. Try it!"

Solas picked up a piece of meat and took a small bite. Hi stomach growled in response, demanding more. He had to remain cautious, however, and he still needed more information from this woman.

"It's good?" 

"Very."

They sat in silence for a few moments while Solas took a few more bites, eyeing his surroundings, trying to gauge how far his hidden stash of equipment could be. Though Hossberg was quite a large city, it was built with the military precision of a grid system and back tracking would be simple enough. Solas felt sure that finding his way back to his initial rooftop would be easy, even after getting here in the dark and in a hurry. Simply hexing her and running would be the simple solution…

"So… Don't suppose you would share where you are going?"

' _There it is…'_

Solas snapped his head back to her, frowning slightly. It made Adrianna shift uncomfortably in her chair.

"Am I making you nervous?" Solas asked.

"I'm just…." She recomposed herself and straightened in her seat. "No one comes to Hossberg for leisure. It's a military outpost for most, and a wasteland for the rest, and anyone who ventures further north either returns after the first few days – beaten and robbed by bandits – or they don't come back at all. Darkspawn are crawling all over Tallo's Eye, so you couldn't be going there, either…"

Solas remained quiet.

"So, it's strange to see a single mage travelling north, is all."

' _Tread carefully…'_

Her demeanor was becoming increasingly anxious and Solas could practically taste the tension in the air. He set down his plate and sighed.

"My name."

"What?"

"You never asked my name," he stated.

"Your name?"

"Yes, my name," he repeated. "Not once did you ask for it, even after you told me yours. It's odd for anyone to invite a stranger – a _murderous stranger_ no less – into their home; never mind not finding out who they are when they do."

Adrianna's face started to go an ashen color. Even in the dim light, Solas could see the slight glisten of perspiration on her young face. She tried to compose herself and cleared her throat, "Well, I guess I did miss that piece of information. Things were kind of crazy after the tavern, after all-"

"I never missed asking for yours."

"Well, things were a little more hectic on _my_ end of things! You just slept for a few hours while I had to make accommodations and ensure we weren't spotted or sought after."

"Was your contact expecting me to travel north? Did she give you my real name?"

Solas could tell that Adrianna was trying to devise a lie, but her face gave her away as the color now completely drained from it. She quickly rose from her seat and drew a dagger from her long skirt, the blade shaking in her trembling hand.

Solas just shook his head. "They must not have, or else they would have sent someone far more skilled." He noticed her clumsy stance and the fear in her eyes. Clearly, she had not been expecting to run into this target, and her contacts must have known that – maybe even hoped for it.

"Stay back apostate." She said; a tremble in her voice.

"Who are your contacts?" Solas asked in a calm tone. "I'll trouble you no further, if you give me the note in y our apron, and allow me to be on my way." He began to take slow steps towards her, his hand slowly extending outwards…

Then, she spit on him. It hit Solas just below his eye and he wiped at it in disgust.

"You…"

But as he looked at his hand, he noticed the color of dark, red blood smeared on his skin. Quickly, he looked up again and saw the fear on her face, the sweat on her brow, and the blood seeping from her neck, and the dagger. He took a step back and gasped.

"Mythal."

' _No, boy. Not me.'_

Adrianna's eyes stayed fixated on Solas, and all he could do was helplessly watch as the life slowly slid from her eyes. They turned glossy, her posture beginning to slump. She hit the cold ground with a loud _thump!_ and Solas was quick to kick her skirts out of the way of the burning coals. He searched around the area for the assassin, and although his staff was in the small shack, he brought a small barrier up around him for protection.

A dark figure emerged from the shadows down the alley to Solas' right. It walked towards the elf, a black cloak covering the character and concealing its face. It closed the distance between itself and the now dead human, and knelt down, withdrawing the short blade with a sickening _squelch!_ of blood. The figure stayed there, examining the body, closing Adrianna's glassy eyes one final time.

"Who are you? Show yourself!" Solas demanded, his magic gathering.

The figure remained still, only for a moment. Then it wiped the blade on Adrianna's once white apron, and sheathed the short blade.

"For Creator's sake, Solas, do you know how agonizingly boring it was to watch you banter with this spy? It was like watching grass grow… in a drought."

Solas released his barrier at once and sighed. "Vehiron…"

The figure stood and pulled back his dark hood, long blond hair spilling out from it. Vehiron smiled in a way that made the women around him swoon, and he knew it. His dark olive skin accented with tattoos of the Elvhen language all over his body. He had dark brown eyes that always held a glint of mischief behind them; and where Vehiron went, trouble usually followed close behind.

"Yes, it is I, Dread Wolf!" The elf made an overly exaggerated bow, hands outstretched. "Who else could you have possibly expected? Maybe the friends of that guardsmen you brutally murdered? Or reinforcement for this woman you bunked with tonight?"

Solas scoffed. "Why are you here?"

Vehiron crossed his arms, rocking back on his heels. "Oh, thanks Vehiron. Thank you for discretely removing the guardsmen hunting me down and ensuring this spy didn't get away. Oh! You're welcome Solas! All in a day's work from your top agent – my pleasure, really-"

"Vehiron!" Solas took a deep breath to try and calm himself. He rubbed his eyes and could feel another headache coming on. "I'm grateful to you for handling the guards, but I was fine here."

The elf laughed. "You can't be serious? I know you, Solas – well, at least I _did_ until you left that guard reduced to a stumpy mess – but I was almost _certain_ you'd let that woman go!"

"And if I did?"

"Oh Solas," Vehiron laughed again and picked up Solas' discarded food. "How do you expect to keep yourself hidden? That girl would have sent another raven as soon as you left. She was too green to understand your power and how scared she should have really been of you." He plopped down on the low chair and took a large bite of the dried meat. He noticed Solas' steady glare on him and shrugged. "Well, if you're not going to eat it…."

Solas groaned in frustration and walked over to the body, checking her pockets. Sure enough, he found the small rolled parchment in her apron and he took it. The writing was tiny, delicate, as if written for scholarly reasons.

'The south wind blows north. Steppeing, wandering, weathered in its journey.'

Solas read the words aloud. He tried to understand how she could have gotten this information from him.

"I must have spoken aloud while in the Fade," he said, realizing now just how careless he had been.

Vehiron shook his head. He swallowed the last of the makeshift meal and stood up. He clapped a hand on Solas' shoulder and sighed.

"Yet another reason you need me to watch your back."

Solas watched Vehiron disappear down the alley. When he came back, he brought three staves, two packs, and a new cloak. They were all the items Solas had with him for his journey, the items he had stashed atop a roof near the market. Again, he thought he had been smart about hiding his supplies, and again he was mistaken.

"You left these in your insanely obvious hiding spot atop that roof in the market." Vehiron dropped the equipment beside the fire and began cleaning up Adrianna's corpse. "Honestly, this girl found your stash in a matter of hours. I found it in a matter of minutes." He dragged the body into the house and began to strip her clothes off.

"So, when I give you orders to remain in Weisshaupt, you decided to ignore them and – what are you doing?!"

Vehiron stopped; Adrianna's dress was hiked up to her waist. He looked up at Solas and let out a long, heavy sigh.

"Yes, I disobeyed your order," he admitted. "I did it, though, for good reason."

Solas crossed his arms. "That reason being?"

The elf paused, then snickered. "Because your order was stupid."

The tips of Solas' ears turned bright red.

"Look," Vehiron continued, starting to pull the skirts and blouse off of the dead girl. "I understand that you are intelligent, Solas. Hell, the existence of your orb and your 'old god' status proves your brain power. However, you need tactical help. There are times where you fail to see all the pieces to the puzzle, and it leaves you vulnerable to severe consequences.

"So, instead of surveying the Wardens as they rebuilt, I decided to follow you. It was easy enough to play coy and conceal the truth when no one knew who you were; but the game has changed now. Aiding the Inquisition has gained you a small amount of fame. And although people cheer for the elven apostate who helped defeat the Breach, he is still an apostate in their eyes. And with Inquisitor Trevelyan's new influence and reach across Thedas, your face will soon be everywhere. You can no longer hide in the forests and in the Fade, my friend."

Solas regarded his agent carefully. What he said did make sense. Though he had organized uprisings before, eons ago, the world was different now – bigger, and more complicated, and more players were on the board than he could have ever anticipated. His original plan of leaving out others was slowly crumbling the further north he headed.

He raised an eyebrow at Vehiron, who was still tearing at the spy's clothing.

"You still haven't told me what you're doing."

"She established herself here," he answered, nonchalantly, yanking off her small clothes. "So, you helping here, maiming a guard, escaping with her to her home…"

"I'll be hunted even more." Solas replied.

Vehiron shrugged. "For a while. I doubt the city guard is going to be overly concerned for a simple bar maid. The guard however…" He laughed to himself, still in disbelief at the scene he stumbled into at the tavern after he saw Solas run with the girl. Vehiron had heard the commotion inside and decided to see what it was that Solas was fleeing from. Seeing the decapitated guard for himself wasn't the unsettling part; it was the fact that Solas was the one who did it. He had only known Solas for the last two years, but he felt he knew him fairly well. In the grand scheme of things, he wanted to help the elven people in the most pacifist way possible, and Vehiron admired him for that. Seeing the aftermath of such violence, however, left him slightly shaken.

Solas ran a hand over his head, wiping a sheen of sweat from his bare scalp. "I may have a guess at who is trying to keep track of my movements."

Vehiron eyed Solas carefully. "The Inquisition?"

"The Inquisition."

Hi sighed. "Solas, Sister Nightingale is a very thorough and notorious spymaster. If she finds out your location – if she catches wind of your movements in any way-"

"Vehiron, I am completely aware of Nightingale's capabilities and how far her network reaches. I did stay with the Inquisition for the better part of two years, if you recall." Solas sat heavily on the old bed, and suddenly, he felt very old and tired. He had not expected Leliana's network to reach so far north so quickly, if it truly was her. However, he had heard through his own small set-up that Tom Rainier was being heavily escorted back to Weisshaupt for judgement. Perhaps his armed escort was a farce to send spies north. Ever since he had left the Inquisition, Evelyn had sent orders to have Solas tracked down and brought back to Skyhold, and Leliana would only be too happy to help.

Usually, Solas found this game entertaining and challenging in all the right ways. The game of cat and mouse always excited him, and he was eager to play. This time, though, was different. His confidence had been shook due to Corypheus and the Breach. He was second guessing his pawn placement, his timing, and even his end game. Add Mythal's powers and her ability to use his body for her own purpose, and Solas was left feeling a little overwhelmed.

Not that he'd show it in front of his agents, or anyone else, for that matter.

Vehiron smirked. "Well," he said as he rose and walked to the window, judging the time. "I'd say we have two hours before most residents will be out of bed – the sober ones, at least." He pulled the dusty blanket from beneath Solas and laughed as his friend tumbled to the floor. "Let's get her wrapped up. Then, we take what we can, cover what we can't, and be on our way."

It was midday. Solas and Vehiron had been travelling for hours through the desert land, staying as close to the Latenfluss River as possible. Solas would have preferred packing enough to get him through the Wandering Hills and past Tallo's Eye in one journey, but with a companion and extra equipment to carry, a rest stop in the next city would be necessary. Kassel was slightly further north, and only a three day journey on horseback. They would make well enough time.

"So, you still haven't told me your master plan, Dread Wolf."

Solas cringed. "Please refrain from using that name as much as you can, Vehiron. We can never be too sure who may listening."

Vehiron's dark eyes scanned the vast, empty desert and he gave Solas an amused look. He bent over to his horse and whispered mockingly, "Shhhh! Don't go telling the other horses that our friend here is an ancient elven god. It would be bad for business."

Solas just glared.

"Suit yourself," Vehiron sighed, brushing a lock of golden hair from his brow. "But, I'm not sure how capable I can be in unfamiliar surroundings. Not the brightest idea to keep your companion in the dark, Solas."

' _He talks too much…'_

Solas grinned. "We are going to stop in Kassel to replenish our provisions. From there, we head north, past the Weathered Pass and Tallo's Eye-"

"No one goes that far north."

"We will."

"We'll die before we even reach the Eye."

Solas looked over to Vehiron, his eyes firm and determined. "We will not die. We cannot die."

"Solas, the people of Orth live north of Kassel. They are known to be fierce, traditional, and secluded. They are comparable to the Avaar or the south. Fierce warriors, dangerous shaman, blood magic, sacrifices… scarification…"

"No all Avaar are barbarians, Vehiron," Solas replied. He noticed a dip in the rocky cliffs about a mile ahead. "We will stop and let our horses rest at the next shore, just up ahead."

Once they had settled the horses and unpacked their provisions, Solas began to prepare a meal for them. At least with Kassel only being a three day journey, they would have an abundance of fresh food to eat along the way. This long journey from Skyhold to Hossberg had taken three months of hard travel, and food had become scarce on the last trek from Perendale to Hossberg. Solas had to survive on small bits of dried meat and mere sips of water. He wanted to avoid those conditions as much as possible now.

"A wise choice, Dread Wolf," Vehiron emphasized the name, much to Solas' distaste. "Once we are north of the Eye, we will need to be at our best both physically and mentally."

"I'm not sure if my mental state will survive Vehiron's continuous ramblings," Solas mumbled to himself, laughing quietly over the fire.

"What's so funny?" Vehiron asked, brushing down his horse as it drank from the riverbed. When Solas didn't answer, he just rolled his eyes and finished grooming his horse, grumbling about the crazy bald elf he was travelling with.

As the sun began to set, the two met sat close to their small fire, silent, aside from the sounds of chewing. Solas kept his gaze fixed to the sandy horizon, watching the sky as it slowly turned a deep shade of blood red as the sun tucked away behind the hills. He knew Vehiron had more questions, and he was wise to keep them to himself. For the time being, the less his friend knew of their mission, the better. Solas was still trying to wrap his head around the idea of elvhen who had preserved the old ways – the _real_ old ways. He prayed he would not simply find another faction of the Dalish.

Mythal laughed. _'Do you not think I'd know the difference? You must rust me with this, old friend; they remember. In their own way, they remember.'_

Solas said nothing. He continued to enjoy the sunset, wondering what possibilities lay beyond the Eye.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

"Another round, please, my dear lady."

The flush on Vehiron's cheek was becoming more prominent, yet he kept himself composed. Solas watched him carefully as he leisurely sipped his own drink.

The elves had reached Kassel close to sundown, and by the time they had tethered their horses, most of the merchants had closed for the evening. Vehiron insisted on sleeping in a real bed and Solas wasn't about to argue. Even he could use a comfortable, sand free sleep for the night.

So they had purchased two rooms at a small tavern and now sat amongst other patrons. It made Solas slightly uncomfortable, given how eventful his last meal had been at a place exactly like this one; but Mythal had been quiet for most of their journey. He wondered if such visits they had in the Fade sapped her of her energy? He hadn't thought to ask her the last time they spoke, so he made a note to ask her next time.

Vehiron took another gulp of his glass, finishing the ale that was inside. "So, how long do you think it will take to travel to Tallo's Eye? It must be at least 300 miles north of here."

Solas swallowed his bite of food. "If we don't run into anything to slow us down, maybe two weeks of travel. We will need to go easy on our horses, and let them rest midday, when the sun is at its highest. It will be too hot for them to travel at that time. We will also need to watch out for sandstorms. The Anderfels' winters are plagued by them."

Vehiron nodded behind Solas. "And how long before we get rid of _them_?"

Solas was aware of who Vehiron was referring to without turning around. Since they had arrived in the city, Solas felt the sensation of being watched. Both elves had kept a keen eye out in the crowds as they moved, Vehiron keeping a hand on his small daggers at all times, ready to throw at a moment's notice. Other than a few shifting shadows, however, their stalkers had remained undetected.

Until now, that is.

"Perhaps they will think to take advantage of you in your drunken state. Sleep with one eye open tonight, Vehiron." Solas said, keeping their cloaked figures in his peripherals as best he could.

The blond elf grinned as he continued to drink his ale. "Oh, Solas, I have no intention of sleeping _at all_ tonight. Or, have you not noticed the lovelies in the corner trying to get my attention?"

This time, Solas did turn to follow Vehiron's gaze. In the opposite corner of their mysterious friends sat two elven women. Both young, both drinking, and both eyeing his friend seductively, smiling and giggling as he returned their flirtatious glances.

Vehiron smirked back at Solas, resting his head in his armored hand. "One for each of us, if you'd like?"

Solas shook his head. "That's not really my type of-"

"Oh come on!" Vehiron slapped the table loudly, making the crowd around them jump in their seats. Cleary, he had drunk enough to have his motor skills slightly affected. He kept his heavy lidded gaze on Solas, his eyes focusing as best as they could. "Have you been celibate ever since you woke up, Dread Wolf?"

Solas said nothing.

Vehiron's jaw dropped. "Gods, are you serious? Solas, friend, please, let me fix what is clearly ailing and frustrating you! I can share! I'm very good at sharing my toys."

Solas grimaced. "That, Vehiron, is exactly why I won't let you 'help me' in that sense. I've no desire to be robbed in the night, or given any number of diseases your companions may carry."

"That's why magic exists!" Vehiron challenged, laughing.

"I don't think you quite grasp the true uses for magic."

"Ah, suit yourself." Vehiron quickly downed his new glass of ale and belched under his breath. He then stood his balance slightly off, making his grab the back of his chair for support. He walked by Solas and clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. "You'd probably forget what to do with a woman, anyhow. No offense."

"None taken."

"See you in the morning."

Solas grinned. "Hopefully they don't extend the same offer. We need to leave as early as possible tomorrow. I'll meet you in the market at sun up."

Vehiron nodded, and Solas watched him sway his now clumsy body over to the elves. Solas shook his head and sat in silence, drowning out the noise of the tavern around him.  
 _  
'That boy is going to get you into trouble.'_ Mythal warned.

"Ah, finally speaking with me again, I see," Solas whispered.

' _I must when I feel that our safety is compromised. That boy is going to cost you.'_

"He is stupid and foolhardy," Solas agreed. "But only with women. His training with the Antivan Crows has made him wise in the art of killing and the Game. I trust him, Mythal. I might not always like him, but he has earned my trust." He glanced over his shoulder to see Vehiron sitting with the two elven women; one had his mouth occupied while the other was running her hands over his leather chest piece. Solas rolled his eyes. He glanced again into the opposite corner of the room and noticed that the two cloaked figures had left. Solas wanted to believe it was just his imagination; that they weren't really being followed. But Vehiron felt it too. Solas thought again of the note left on Adrianna's body.

' _The south wind blows north…'_

He was surprised by Spymaster Leliana's ability to place her network this far north. He assumed he would be out of the Inquisition's reach as soon as he left Orlais. Hell, as soon as the Breach was closed, he had left immediately, not bothering to stay for any questions or celebrations. He should have known Evelyn, of all people, would start an immediate search for him. She was never one to simply wait for answers.

' _Getting north of the Eye as quickly as possible is our highest priority,'_ Mythal whispered. _'If the Inquisition is following this closely, we will need to leave at dawn.'_

"We'll need supplies, first," Solas replied. "We will restock quickly and be on our way."

He finished his drink and stood. Glancing over at Vehiron and his… company, Solas could only shake his head, laughing to himself. His friend had gotten the two women to show great interest in each other, while Vehiron left coin for their table. He smiled broadly at Solas, pointing at the girls and winking.

Solas tucked in his chair, left coin on the table for their bill, and nodded his good night to Vehiron as he passed. He made his way up the staircase to his rented room, his body suddenly yearning for a decent nights' sleep. He opened the door to his room, the wooden door creaking on its hinges. Solas flicked his wrist to set the small lantern on his side table alight, giving a warm glow to the small room. He walked across the floor to his bed, as the door slowly closed behind him…

His ears twitched at the slightest movement near the door. Instantly, Solas dove for his staff, grabbing it off of the wall by his bed. He turned toward the intruder, immediately throwing up a barrier for protection, charging his stun spell and keeping his mind focused.

"Now, now, Solas, there's no need for that. Put the staff down. Let's be civilized."

The barrier dropped and Solas relaxed slightly.

"Blackwall?"

A large man stood in the shadows by the door to Solas' room. He had hard eyes, eyes that have seen their fair share of battle, and dark black hair with a full beard to match. He stood a good foot over Solas in size, and what amount of armor you could see under the black cloak glimmered in the low candlelight.

"I go permanently by Rainier, now," he answered, stepping forward. "The Wardens deemed it… inappropriate to call me by their old comrade's name."

Solas held onto his staff, keeping a small amount of energy stored, just in case. "I see the Wardens allowed you to live; and continue on in their ranks, no less."

Rainier shrugged. "Their numbers and reputation are not what they once were. It helped that Evelyn gave me a glowing referral; and now I'm a representative to the Wardens from the Inquisition, and vice versa. Not a bad way to live. I assume most Wardens did not expect me – or want me – to live through the initiation. Win-win, either way you look at it, though."

Solas nodded towards his black cloak covering his armor and gambeson in the traditional Grey Warden blue. "So is it you, the Wardens, or the Inquisition hunting me?"

Rainier sighed and sat down on the chair next to him. "I had received word from the Inquisitor, yes. However, my companion and I have been scouting to the north of the Anderfels for the last week. Reports have come in of darkspawn attacking small villages. My duty to the Wardens trumps trying to find a needle in a haystack."

"So, this meeting is because…?"

Rainier smiled, though his thick beard nearly concealed it. "When you find said needle, it's only polite to ask it why it's hiding."

Solas grunted. "I'm not hiding."

"Let's call it running, then."

The elf narrowed his eyes and Rainier.

"My plans do not involve the Grey Wardens or the Inquisition. Therefore there is no need to share them with you. This is my path to travel, and I won't be persuaded by intimidation of any sort."

Rainier raised his hands up in defense. "I'm not here to hunt or intimidate, Solas." He turned serious, leaning in, his face stern. "Tell me this, though, if you please: Will people die along the way?"

Solas' silence was all Rainier needed. He shook his head and rose to his feet.

"Okay, Solas," he said, pacing the small space. "I'll make you a deal. One hundred miles north of Kassel is a reported tunnel leading to the dwarven Deep Roads. The tunnel was sealed by an old magic, one that our mages would need weeks to decipher. Now, my companion and I were simply going to the blow the thing up, however, we'd _like_ to hold onto what little gatlock we have acquired-"

Solas raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "How did you acquire the Qunari gatlock?"

Rainier grinned. "The Wardens have ways. Now, I assume you are travelling north – why else would you be all the way out here? Come with me, fix the magic barrier, and maybe I'll find other things to bide my time with before I go back to Weisshaupt and send my report to the Inquisition."

Scoffing, Solas crossed his arms. "Just like that? You'll let me continue on?"

"I know you, Solas," he said. "I know you won't spread needless bloodshed. The darkspawn are my immediate concern; and I'm willing to risk it to complete my objective. I have respect for you, and I assume you are on this journey for a noble cause, whatever that might be."

"It's not that simple."

"Nothing ever is."

' _We don't know what to expect further north. A few days of travel with this man could prove useful, if he sticks to his word. And if darkspawn are truly a problem…'_

Solas sighed, running a hand over his head. "We go with you; you give me two weeks to travel before you make your report."

"Done."

"Plus an equal share in your supplies while we travel together. Our supplies will remain untouched until we part ways."

"Agreed." Rainier rose, pulling his hood over his head, he reached for the door. "We will meet on the city outskirts just after daybreak. I advise getting a decent night's rest tonight, as the terrain and conditions will only worsen the further north we travel."

"I understand," Solas replied, ushering his intruder out the door. "We shall see you in a few hours, then."

"Until then."

Solas closed the door and drew in a deep breath, finally releasing his reserve of magic. He leaned back and closed his eyes, exhaling and feeling the slight pressure of a headache coming on. He reached to the table in the corner that had only a moment ago been occupied by his past, and filled a glass with water from the pitcher provided. He took a long drink and stripped his coat and heavy pants off. He crawled into the small but comfy bed and closed his eyes.

' _A wise move, keeping your enemies close.'_

"He is not my enemy," Solas mumbled, draping an arm over his eyes. The last thing he wanted to do was have a debate over loyalties this late at night. He rolled to his side. "As you said, he will be useful for our time together. So long as he keeps his end of the bargain, as I believe he will, we should be at our destination long before he makes his report."

' _Rest, Fen'Harel,'_ Mythal shushed. _'Calm your mind. Tomorrow will prove to be… interesting, if nothing else.'_

Solas did not need to be told twice as his eyelids closed, and he slipped into the Fade with a small smile on his face.

"So… am I missing something here?"

Solas stood at the edge of the Kassel city walls, Vehiron on his left, packing his horse and looking slightly disheveled from his activities the previous night, and Rainier stood to his right, sitting straight on his mount, his armor glistening in the morning sunlight. The breast plate bore the well-known griffon design of the Wardens, and the gambeson of blue stood out brightly against the metal. There was no mistaking who this man was, and Rainier did nothing to try and conceal it.

"Vehiron," Solas began. "This is Warden Bl-Rainier. I travelled with him during my time with the Inquisition. He will accompany us roughly one hundred miles north of Kassel, where we will aid him with his task, and then we will part ways. He's been gracious enough to offer sharing his and his companion's supplies with us while we are together."

"Wait," Vehiron walked over to Rainier's horse, placing a hand over his face to keep the bright sun out of his bloodshot eyes. He glared up and studied the man on his horse. "Rainier? As in Tom Rainier? _The_ Tom Rainier?"

"I see my reputation has gotten around," Rainier said, cringing inwardly.

The elf raised his hands in defense. "Hey, I have no qualms with what happened, because it didn't happen to me. The Crows, however, were hovering over a very big contract for your head a while back. You, good sir, should count your blessings that the Inquisition got to you first, and that the Warden's took you in, instead of flaying you alive. Tough crowd, those griffon riding bastards."

"Joining the Wardens is a sentence in its own way. With their numbers so low now – wait… I recognize you."

"No you don't." Vehiron quickly drew his own hood up, trying to conceal his face.

Rainier growled. "You were the one breaking into Weisshaupt and stealing from our pantries at night! Donovan wrote in his report of a tattooed, blond elf."

Solas turned abruptly and glared at Vehiron. "Really?!"

"I got desperate!" Vehiron protested. "Food is so scarce out here! And the Warden's had cookies, Solas, cookies! And besides," he retreated quickly to his horse, aware of the seething Warden staring daggers at him. "I never broke anything. I merely… slipped in through the window. It's not _my_ fault the cooks kept the locks off the doors!"

"Enough!" Solas shouted. He turned to Rainier. "I apologize on my companion's behalf. If you'd like," he smirked. "You can rough him up to your liking."

Vehiron gulped as he sat on his horse.

Rainier grinned. "Thank you for the offer, Solas, but it's not necessary. However, Vehiron, I will reserve one very well planned out and executed punch for you. You won't know when it's coming, but when it does, rest assured that it will _hurt._ "

"What-? But- Oh come on! It was hardly _any_ food compared to what your order had stockpiled!"

Rainier sat so stoic and silent on his mount for a moment, then smiled. "We take our cookies very, _very_ seriously."

Solas laughed as he climbed on his horse and the men headed out.

"Well…" Vehiron said. "Dammit."

"Kilina left last night to scout ahead. She will meet us at our rendezvous point roughly forty miles north."

Solas turned to Rainier. "She went alone?"

"That's right," the Warden nodded. "She was born and raised in the Anderfels, so she insisted on securing the way for me. Though she may have been trying to see if she could lose me along the way. She and Warden Blackwall were close. He was the one who recruited her and trained her."

"Does she blame you for what happened, then?"

"What happened?" Vehiron asked.

"No," Rainier ignored the elf. "I don't think she cares for the man who took her friend's identity. Can't say I care for him, either." He slowed his horse for a moment, eyeing the position of the sun and the horizon ahead.

As Solas waited patiently for the Warden to decide their direction, Vehiron brought his horse beside him and nudged Solas.

"So, two of them against the two of us."

"It's not going to be like that, Vehiron."

"How can you be so sure?" he challenged. "I mean, this guy butchered _children_ for crying out loud. Solas, can you assure me that he won't try to drag us back to Weisshaupt – or the Inquisition, for that matter?"

"He won't. No, silence until we reach our camp for the evening," Solas snapped.

Rainier looked back at the two elves. "Two hours of riding north-northwest , and we should be at camp." He nodded towards the distance behind them, the men turning to follow his gaze. "We'd better hurry. There's a sandstorm on the rise. If we aren't quick to get to shelter, we can easily be lost or killed in a storm such as that."

Behind them, miles away yet still visible, Solas could see the gathering of clouds that touched the rolling hills. Light flickered in the beige clouds, and he could faintly hear the rumblings of thunder. Winter in the Anderfels did not come with fluffy white snow and cold temperatures; it came with harsh sandstorms that could bury you out in the desert in minutes. It came with a sun that remained scorching hot all year round, and just as bright. Solas had no desire to be left in the coming storm, so he and his group picked up the pace, staying close to the Grey Warden while the wind began to pick up.

For the next two hours, they rode hard, taking only short breaks to water their horses. By the time Rainier told them they were close, the storm had begun to roll in, the wind pushing hard all around them, kicking up sand and making their mobility severely limited. The horses could hardly keep their footing as they trudged along. Twice, Vehiron's mount stumbled in the sand, sending the elf sprawling across the dunes. Eventually, all three men had to travel side by side to keep the winds from repeatedly knocking them down.

"Up ahead!" Rainier tried to shout, but his voice was of no use over the loud whistles of Mother Nature. He waved his arm in front of the elves, drawing their attention. He motioned towards an opening a few miles ahead, a light illuminating the entrance.

Wasting no time, the three men nudged their horses and made their way to the light. As they got closer, a dark figure emerged and stood a few feet from the entrance. Solas hoped this was Rainier's companion he had mentioned, for they were in no position to start a fight.

' _Just a little further,'_ he told himself.


End file.
